And All it Took was a Kiss, a Shot, and a Funeral
by Gates Hale
Summary: Do you need anything more than the title? Patrick/Lisbon.


**And All it Took was a Kiss, a Shot, and a Funeral.**

"So then Garrison turns and-" Lisbon stopped mid sentence and stared at Jane. "Oh," she breathed, cocking her head slightly to the left.

He looked at her and mirrored the small syllable, his eyes widening imperceptibly. "Oh."

All at once his hand was buried in her hair and she dragged him forward by his tie, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. It was passionate and rough and their teeth smacked together, but really, it didn't matter at all.

Behind the two-way mirror, a twenty dollar bill changed hands.

After a moment, they pulled apart, and again Lisbon said, "Oh." They resumed their conversation as if it had never been interrupted.

For two weeks, neither brought it up, choosing to ignore it, act like the entire dynamic of their relationship hadn't changed; and really, who's to say it had? Perhaps they'd always known.

They were on a stake out. The street was dark, lit only by a few far spread street lamps. Everything was damp, like the morning after a thunderstorm. The manicured trees and lawns only added to the eerie atmosphere. And then he appeared, bloody knife held loosely between his fingers. Lisbon was out of the car first, followed quickly by Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt. Jane called the number set to speed dial on his phone and prayed to every deity he didn't believe in. The man across the street's phone rang. They had him. They had Red John.

The moment his mobile rang, he knew it was done. He knew what they'd discovered. So he took a calculated risk, just as Jane stepped out of the car, calm and poised, gun leveled at the man he so despised. Red John shot first.

The round hit Lisbon just below the clavicle, the scarlet immediately seeping through her pale blouse.

Patrick dropped the gun and sank to his knees, screaming to the shocked agents, "GO! Get him!" They sprinted after the quickly escaping serial killer, unwatched by Patrick.

"Lisbon..." He whispered.

"Patrick-" she coughed violently, blood spattering his cheek, "what are y-you do- ing? Red John." She tried to lift her hand and pointed weakly.

"Doesn't matter, doesn't matter, LISBON," he shouted as her head started to drift sideways.

"Mmm..." she moaned slightly.

"C'mon, Lisbon, don't let him do this, please don't let him do this, you can't let him do this to me twice."

"Do... what?"

"You can't let him take the person I love from me twice, Lisbon, you can't!"

"Love," she whispered, her eyes widening.

"Yes, Lisbon, I love you," Patrick said urgently, "Is that enough to make you stick around? Please, please! Don't leave me." The last words were spoken so softly she had to strain to hear them.

"I'm so sorry," Lisbon said as her eyes drifted closed. _At least he knows_, she consoled herself.

A single tear fell next to the discarded gun.

/

When he awoke, she was smiling at him, her hand still clutched in his.

"Hey," Lisbon said, smiling softly.

"Hey." Patrick's voice was hoarse. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry."

Patrick looked down to their twined fingers. "It was touch and go for a little while," he said quietly.

Lisbon breathed in deliberately. "Patrick," she said cautiously, "You stayed with me..."

"Of course I did, you've been in the hospital for a week."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

They'd waited until Lisbon was well enough to burn the body. The five of them stood around the incinerator, currently occupied by a thin cardboard box.

"I feel like someone should say something," Van Pelt frowned.

"Fine," Patrick sneered. "It's about time you son of a bitch." He hit the button and watched as Red John's body burned to ashes.

"Are we ever going to talk about this, Patrick?"

They'd been sitting quietly in the dim office area, the others having left hours before.

"What's there to talk about? You're alive, Red John is dead, and I watched him burn."

"Well, there's the part where you gave him up to stay with me, the part where we kissed, or, I don't know, the part where you said you loved me?"

"Lisbon?" He asked, standing.

She mirrored the motion. In three long strides he was inches in front of her. In one swift motion he bent and kissed her. Thoroughly.

"Oh."


End file.
